


Truth of Genius

by holdouttrout



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s07e16 Death Knell, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-20
Updated: 2007-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdouttrout/pseuds/holdouttrout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's having trouble dealing with events post-Death Knell. Jack has answers and cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth of Genius

Sam turned her face into the warm spray from the showerhead, scrubbing her face with her hands and feeling the first layer of dirt dissolve under the water. She turned the heat up and scrubbed herself, watching the dirty water swirl away down the drain.  
  
When she'd gotten most of the dirt off herself, she dragged her arm up and grasped the soap, lathering herself all over, feeling the layer of slick oil underneath the dirt wash away, leaving her skin looking pink and clean as the soap finished the job.  
  
She didn't want to take any of that planet home with her.  
  
Except...  _a strong arm around her and a shoulder to lean on, even after she'd given up._  
  
She'd probably smelled like crap, but he hadn't said anything  
  
Sam felt like an eternity passed while she willed her heavy arms to take the shampoo and drag a handful of it through her hair, not having the energy to lather it quickly, efficiently, like she always did. After she'd rinsed it out, she turned off the water, not bothering with conditioner. She managed to dry herself off and sat down on the bench, her towel wrapped loosly around her torso.  
  
She felt unable to deal with the monumental task of getting dressed, so she closed her eyes.  
  
It had been so clear: run and find some way to kill it. There wasn't anything Samantha Carter couldn't kill, given enough time.  
  
And then the UAV had dropped from the sky, a gift from heaven, or so it had felt at the time. She knew--she just  _knew_ that she could use that to her advantage. She even had the added benefit of knowing where the super-soldier would be, and she thought she was closer.  
  
She took off running. The useless piece of the weapon bounced against her chest with every step. She concentrated on feeling anger at the irony of her situation and let the tap of the equipment build another layer of rage.  
  
She wasn't going to let this beat her.  
  
She spared no thought for her teammates or her father. Her father was alive--he had to be. And her teammates were coming, as the UAV prooved. Even so, it was up to her to take this--thing out.   
  
Her boots pounded against the dirt as she breathed raggedly, no longer able to control the intake of air. She needed more, more, more.  
  
She hit the clearing, saw it. A ragged cry threatened her lips, but was strangled from lack of air. She dropped to her knees, positioned it, fumbled with the wires.  
  
There wasn't any time. She wondered if she'd be able to hear the soldier coming over the gasps of air and the pounding of her heart and head.  
  
She had it, finally, and unwound the wire as far as she could. She lay down, finally taking the great gulps of air she needed, and felt her head clearing a little, saw her vision come back in focus.  
  
None too soon.  
  
She waited until it was directly ahead, and connected the wires. The flare exploded, bringing down the wall of rock and sand. Sam felt no elation, but a certain grim satisfaction. She sat down again, having somehow made it up to see her handiwork.  
  
It was over, and she was still alive.  
  
Then the rocks shifted and it was there, and there was no escape this time--and even if there was, she couldn't have taken it, her disbelief leeching away the rest of her anger, leaving her hollow and defenseless before the tireless black monster.  
  
A breath of cold air brushed against her bare skin in the locker room, and she shook herself out of memory.  
  
It was all right. They had come for her in time after all. It shouldn't matter that she'd given up. There was nothing she could have done.  
  
She tried to think how it had taken her over seven years, multiple system lords, various alien cultures and problems--some of which she herself had caused--to reach her limit. She tried to console herself with the knowledge that others might have given up, had given up, long before she had.  
  
It was no use. The emptiness had finally caught up with her, and in the stillness it whispered that perhaps it had been there all along. Maybe she had never had it in her. Maybe it was her teammates who, all unknowing, had carried her through the rough spots before. Certain death never seemed so certain when she looked at Daniel, Teal'c seemed never to have heard the phrase 'impossible odds,' and to the Colonel, the worst obstacle one could face was his or her own doubt.  
  
She got up and pulled on her clothes, mulling the thought over. It made sense. She'd been borrowing strength from her team since the beginning. And yet, even through her fogged mind, she felt there was something wrong with the assertion, as if some part of the equation was missing.  
  
She finished getting dressed and left the locker room, not bothering to take her wallet or bag from her locker. She'd stay on base tonight.  
  
Just before she reached the temporary quarters, she ran into Colonel O'Neill. He looked tired, but instead of looking defeated, he half-smiled and held out a small plate with a huge piece of cake.  
  
"Thought our hero today could use a bit of celebration. Teal'c begged off, but he told me that I should convey his satisfaction you were unharmed."  
  
Sam stared. "I didn't do anything, sir. You were the ones who killed it, saved me."  
  
O'Neill just hefted the cake in one hand, regarded her seriously. "Carter, if you hadn't had that technology, we would all be dead. As far as I'm concerned, we were all in the right place at the right time."  
  
Sam dropped her eyes. "Sir...I gave up."  
  
O'Neill shook his head. "Doesn't matter."  
  
"But another thirty seconds---"  
  
"Ah! We got there. You were there. The rest is just speculation." He thrust the cake at her. "Take. Eat. Good."  
  
Sam took the cake. "Sir..." she stopped at the exasperated look he gave her. "Fine," she grumbled, causing his eyebrows to arch at her unusual tone. "But I can't eat this whole piece myself."  
  
His face brightened. "Why, Carter, I thought you'd never ask," and pulled out two forks from his pocket.  
  
Sam smiled faintly, and they sat together, eating cake in a comfortable silence, and Sam thought maybe it really didn't matter she wasn't as strong as she thought, after all.


End file.
